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About Literature / Professional Devon JonesCanada Recent Activity
Deviant for 2 Years
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   Never was a word for any occasion. In the dark it is ever waiting, out of arm’s reach, on the edge of oblivion. It watches in the shadows of the fire and hears the whispers of song. In the light it takes to life and dances in the embrace of shunted lovers and dreaming poets. It never stops. It never ends. In circumstance it perpetuates its antithesis. So begins life in the shadow of a word.
   Dark skies were always a sallow sign for the times. Listening to the silent call of the gale that stirred the ashen clouds, it was much the same as the roar of the humming land in motion. One in one was equal to one unchanged. The sweeping winds touched nothing, not trees or the cotton dusting the empty roads, as its blew across the silent town in the coming dark.
   All was never but still. Signs were black and turned away, etched with nothings that confused their purpose. They were defunct to stand and serve. Houses of crumbling brick and aged shingles shi
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   Waking up not like the breaching of breath from the black of the dark sea drowning my thoughts and holding at bay the screaming, silent emptiness but feeling chains of fire burn with hooks in flesh unwilling as it drags and tears, drags and tears, to pieces the whole and whole still unbound in its ravel of wire and knotted spines and barbs, this is experience in the barren rock of sounds and homely beating clocks bearing down hard and unwhole on the mantle. This vainglorious sanctimony of harmonious wrongs conspired by many forms of many faces, the perfect coincidence of thunder and lightning, it drags and tears, drags and tears. To ask it ignores. To beg it takes. To hold it steals and bars against to force claim undeserved and ungained on private asides that form the whole. Stealing to assume a self of sustenance, cannibal planet of cannibal hearts screaming in the mud and ashen bones, as if cries of uncertain to the neuron might grant sacred, and immunity from claws bor
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The Life Of DevonTomatoCat - 1 by DevonTomatoCat The Life Of DevonTomatoCat - 1 :icondevontomatocat:DevonTomatoCat 3 3 Feyra Noxigamus (Revised) by DevonTomatoCat Feyra Noxigamus (Revised) :icondevontomatocat:DevonTomatoCat 1 0 Clay Craft - Wishing Well by DevonTomatoCat Clay Craft - Wishing Well :icondevontomatocat:DevonTomatoCat 6 3 Tate by DevonTomatoCat Tate :icondevontomatocat:DevonTomatoCat 2 4 Guess Who? by DevonTomatoCat Guess Who? :icondevontomatocat:DevonTomatoCat 3 7 Christmas Project 2 by DevonTomatoCat Christmas Project 2 :icondevontomatocat:DevonTomatoCat 1 0 Christmas Project 1 by DevonTomatoCat Christmas Project 1 :icondevontomatocat:DevonTomatoCat 1 10
Crossing Stars
   'Are you ever going to start dating?', asked Byrne, walking alongside the boy.
   Ardon shrugged. 'I will when I find the right girl.'
   The fellow cocked an aged brow. 'Oh? And what kind is the right kind?' He stopped at the construction scaffold.
   The boy didn't. Ardon merely shook his head and stooped below the bars. 'I don't know. I'll just know. She'll be… right. It'll hit me like… like…'
   Byrne shook his own head. 'Like a plot tool?' Something clinking above drew his gaze.
   'I guess-' Everything went black. Minutes passed before light and sight came back as one. Fire burned in his skull. 'Agh…'
   Black blotted out the sun. Long, dark locks dusted his cheeks. 'Hey, hey… are you okay?' The voice was female. As it sat up a force on his wrist pulled the boy up to a sitting position. Bright hazel eyes blinked his way. A ruby smile contorted into a toothy, nervous grimace. 'I'
:icondevontomatocat:DevonTomatoCat 4 1
And One
Never without solemn beauty,
Never afforded less than the tantamount,
It takes a world to shape a raindrop, make it whole with stars.
A million and one and one and one,
They take and form and shape bricks and oceans.
When a million and one make a bed they turn the sheets,
Tighter and tighter, until the edges peel up,
Dirty stone and cracked waste embedded in the soles,
Waiting under perfect temporary whispers.
It was a world. It was plenty.
Sometimes sometimes is too much.
Sometimes you need away,
From laws to constrain order to lithographs,
Words to forge in dagger steel a century of stone beds,
Need in desire of a million and one,
Of broken homes and stolen breads,
Without the watching eyes to care but eyes to see enough wrong.
It takes a million and one and one and one.
Until the cracks pop. The seams burst like stitches unbound.
Rules unbound. Lives unbound. Needs unbound.
Maybe enough for one less.
The world is shaped by more than hands and eyes.
Hope is a footfall in its own crat
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Fallen Far - Feyra Noxigamus Bio

Name: Feyra Noxigamus
Age: 25 (Ageless)
Gender: Female
Species: Genomod (Standard)
Group: Institute 5
Attribute: Warp
Equipment: Laser whip (teal), Void Pocket, Shadow Pin
Pet: Loaf Of Bread (Dog)
Appearance: Feyra is tall and thin, with pale skin, messy teal hair, and teal lips over a receding chin on a skinny neck. Being a genomod, she looks less than human in the finer details. Her eyes for instance are a solid light grey without pupils, surrounded by permanent black raccoon eyeshadow. Her skinny body has an apple core shape and, while clothed she may appear to have a woman’s chest, she has no intricate details or reproductive organs. Feyra even lacks a thigh gap because there is nothing between them, hence no space for anything. Her fingernails are also naturally teal like her hair and lips. She wears no rings or fancy jewellery, only a silver piercing on her upper-left lip. As
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Fallen Far - Where In Shadows, Part 1
Fallen Far
Where In Shadows, Part 1
   All across the black the sound of nothingness tore ill silence through the abyss. Emptiness rang out heavy and still, hard into every expanse. The end was no pretty sight. Endless darkness without stars or light tended to gouge into the eyes. It pushed with needled fingers into sanity. Nothing watched and Nothing waited.
   Empty grey eyes watched from behind the dome. With a quiet sigh, a figure turned its back to the black and headed off, toward the lights. A city rolled into view as vision moved to allow it. Bright lights blinked and steel towers loomed, reaching out into the edge of space. From far in the sky, they were all distant landscapes. Feyra brushed a lock of hair from her eyes and leaned on the glass, looking down. The sphere of the city was so pronounced from up above.
   The city of Prism carried on below, bathed in light. The artifi
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Fallen Far - Rules And Guidelines
Fallen Far
   Everything falls. When technology advanced too far and cracked the heavens the sky fell. When robots and genomods outnumbered humans, it was society's turn to collapse. Now reality has crumbled. Nobody knows why or how. Maybe it was mad science gone wrong. Maybe it was fate. Maybe it was something else. The fact remains that one day reality collapsed, bringing everything down with it. The Big Crunch came early, boys and girls. But it didn't end there:
   When everything else was ripped away into the chaotic, fiery sunset of a screaming apocalypse, one last vestige of mankind survived, sealed away in a bubble of futuristic science. This sanctuary is called Prism. Outside is black, not even space remain after the universe left Prism behind. Only when strange falling stars crash down into the dark abyss does the action begin. That's when the darkness lights up and becomes a wild collage of twisted landscapes and bizarre ill
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Ending 4 Of 5
   They say it so many times, that you are not you, that in this wide, wide world of customisation and consequences that it is not real, and it is not. That is why it is. In the dissonance there is detachment, and in detachment there is externalism. In the black, glassy depths of that there is centralism. You are still a piece of you, trapped here and there, in mirrors and bits. All of it has a path unseen in an open field.
   They say live, so you do, through pins and black poems, in wheelchairs, in lifting hearts and television dinners for the shifting mind behind the screen. You grow into one, into that flower with the crooked stem that made you unique. If you break or they break you, you are still you. If you stay whole, you are still you. One. Grow enough and you forget how. One path becomes a straight line and those synapses condense. What if you ask why you are here? Mostly other conjuectured musings create a pantheon of philosophy and theology of the shape o
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The Fire.
Winter Fire, burning white in the light of the moonlight night.
Ice in flames to burn the black to grey and turn ash to snow.
Winter in charred, burning remains of the soul of the seasonal echo,
Taking to the winter wasteland that silent serenity of one match.
And a cause.
When the white is hot as blue and the snow has fallen on the black,
All will be pure again.
Silent and calm in the bones of the bones.
One whisper says nuclear.
One set of fingers held tight to the stalk says judgment.
And all we say, in the middle of the night,
Is death.
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Devon Jones
Artist | Professional | Literature
I am a professional author looking to pass the time. That is about it.

Check out my first book at…
Or find it on Indigo here:…

Want more? Alright. Honestly, I do NOT "watch back" just because you watch my page. If I/you like someone's art, that is what counts. I do try my best to give llama badges out, if that means anything.

If you are nice and friendly, I am too. I do not do too well with insane or really false-faced people though. I do however have a lot of spare time on my hands, so if I sound like the kind of person you want to talk to or you happen to have questions, just send me a note.

A MESSAGE TO ALL: No matter how kind I act or what you think I am implying, I am not flirting and will not hit on you. I am not looking for romance here and I will not date online. I do not intend to send any romantic signals. I am sorry if you perceive otherwise. I do not go on webcam, I do not voice chat, and I especially do not and will not engage in romantic and/or sexual interaction with minors. Attempts to engage in a romantic and/or sexual interaction of any kind with me will be respectfully declined and potentially reported depending on the severity. You may even be blocked. Thank you for understanding and respecting my privacy and morals. I am only here to talk to friends and write/draw.
Life would be too broad to blame and some hidden force too vague yet so accurate. Irony has once more tried to crush me. My comic artist has backed out and now I cannot even draw the rough sketches I need for demo art because muro is broken. Have you used it lately? Does it mystically break down and horribly mutilate everything you draw? I cannot even draw anything, at all. It locks me out saying it failed to save it and then now it started logging me out. As I said, I have no means to draw anything not on paper.

Now I need to hire artists to draw even demo sketches and references of my sensitive intellectual property for me, because apparently I am genuinely forbidden from creating digital visuals. Thanks, life.


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camelopardalisinblue Featured By Owner Apr 3, 2017  Hobbyist General Artist
Many thanks for the return-a-llama! :heart:
DevonTomatoCat Featured By Owner Apr 4, 2017  Professional Writer
You are welcome. Please have a good day/night.
camelopardalisinblue Featured By Owner Apr 4, 2017  Hobbyist General Artist
You too! :heart:
Kaidesu Featured By Owner Apr 1, 2017
DevonTomatoCat Featured By Owner Apr 1, 2017  Professional Writer
You are welcome.
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